


Walking On Air

by harrysbraid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, just imagine louis as peter pan, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1306021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrysbraid/pseuds/harrysbraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is asked to tell a story. He decides to tell the story about finding his first love, Peter Pan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking On Air

**Author's Note:**

> i have always wanted something like this! a oneshot about harry styles and peter pan(aka louis tomlinson in green tights). i have never watched anything related to peter pan so this is just my interpretation of him. enjoy the flight xx

"Daddy? Can you please tell me a bed time story?" 

Harry looks up from the [taxes](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/latentlarry/drafts#) he’s been doing. He rubs his eyes tiredly but gives his 7 year old daughter, Sabrina, a dimpled smile. A smile that always lit up the room.

"Of course. I’ll meet you in your room." Harry says. Sabrina nods and skips to her room, her long hair flying behind her like a cape.  
Harry stares down at his unfinished [work](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/latentlarry/drafts#). He gets up, thinking he deserves a break. He walks to his daughter’s room. He knocks first before he comes in. 

"Can you turn on the lamp for me, daddy? I don’t like to hear your stories with too much light on." Sabrina asks, holding her stuffed pink bunny tightly.

"As you wish, my darling." Harry takes a seat next to his daughter and turns on the lamp and off goes the lights above. "Better?"

"Much better." Sabrina says with a smile, flashing dimples of her own. 

Harry trace his fingers down his daughter’s curly, brown hair. Harry can’t help thinking that she looks so much like him. They have the same long body. They have the same oval face. They have the same smile and laugh. They even have their dimples on the exact same place. They’re both polite and respectable. She even takes in the bad-jokes-genes from him. The only difference is their eyes. Harry’s are green while Sabrina’s are a gray color. The gray color comforts Harry. 

"Now which story would you like me to tell you?" Harry asks. "The one with the alligator, the one with the mermaids-"

"They’re all great stories daddy. Really! They are! But I’m a bit tired of them. I want to hear something different. If you don’t mind….." Sabrina says in a soft tone, as if she’s afraid of hurting his feelings.

"Of course I don’t mind." Harry thinks and thinks and thinks, yet he comes up with nothing. Blank. Nada. 

Seeing the look on her dad’s face, Sabrina pleads. “Oh c’mon daddy! I’m sure there’s one story left for you to tell.” 

There is. The one story that Harry thought he wouldn’t ever have to unlock. Yes, it was a long time ago. Yes, it’s a story, but it’s a story he keeps so [close](http://www.tumblr.com/blog/latentlarry/drafts#)to his heart that it’d be weird to have to it pulled out. 

Harry takes Sabrina’s free hand and squeezes. 

"Dad, whatever it is, it’s ok. You don’t have to tell me." Sabrina gives back a light squeeze. 

Harry shakes his head. “No. I want to. I need to.” He takes a breath and gives his daughter a smirk. “Besides, I’m not sure you can handle this kind of story.”

"Please, dad. I am 7 years old. I think I’m ready for anything." Sabrina crosses her arms and holds her nose up high. Harry laughs and Sabrina gives up her stiff posture. 

"Ok fine I’ll tell you. Since you’re so mature." Harry pokes Sabrina’s side and she giggles. "This is the story of how I found my first love."

xxx

Harry,age 12, never believed his mom. He never believed anything she said about him. Harry never believed any stories that had to do with him. He never believed in him. Never has, and never will. 

"I would love to hear more about story adventures about Peter Pan." Gemma said. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Gemma, why would you even say that? Peter Pan isn’t real.” 

Gemma rolls her eyes back. “Just because I want to hear more stories about him doesn’t make me think he’s real.” 

Gemma didn’t deny what he said, but Harry decides to keep his mouth shut.

"Why won’t you loosen up? For a 12 year old, you sure act like you’re 50." Gemma adds.

"Now now, Gemma. You know Harry’s at the I’m-almost-a-teenager-so-I-must-be-angry-and-mature stage." Harry’s mom, Anne, says as she enters the kitchen. 

"I am not angry." Harry says with a frown.

"That frown on your face tells me the opposite." Gemma retorts. 

Harry pouts. 

"Anyways," Gemma says as if the whole charade never happened. "Mom, do you have anymore Peter Pan stories to tell?"

Harry groans and Anne ignores him. “Yes! Of course! But I should save it for bedtime.” 

"Aren’t you too old for bedtime stories?" Harry pipes up.

"Shut up." Gemma says. She takes a bite out of her toast. Conversation over.

***

"And that’s how Peter Pan won the fight against Captain Hook." Anne concludes. 

"Wow. Peter Pan’s amazing. Isn’t he amazing, Harry?" Gemma asks, wide-eyed with admiration and awe.

"Sure." Harry’s voice muffled due to the pillow on his face. "Can you go to sleep now?"

Gemma yawns in response. Anne tucks Gemma in bed first, than Harry.

"Goodnight, Harry." Anne kisses Harry’s forehead. "And Harry." Anne quickly adds before leaving. 

"Yes, mum?" Harry says, looking directly into his mum’s eyes. 

"Just remember not to grow up too fast. It’s okay to be a kid once in a while."   
Anne, half-smiling, closes the door with a click.

***

Harry opens his eyes from sleep and looks out the window. Full moon, high in the night sky. Harry looks at the clock. 11:31 p.m. Harry lays on his back and closes his eyes. He rolls over to his right side. Than to his left. Once. Twice. Thrice. Harry opens his eyes and sighs in defeat. He can’t sleep. That’s when he hears a sound.

"Pssst."

Harry looks to his right. 

"Over here."

Harry looks to his left.

"Up here." 

Harry looks up at the ceiling. He frowns and cocks his head to the side when he sees something glittery and gold falling down. It looks like dust.

"Right behind yah." Says the voice, so close to Harry’s ear that he feels hot breath.

"Gah!" Harry yells. He quickly covers his mouth with his hands. He glances over at Gemma and gives a silent thanks for Gemma being such a heavy sleeper. 

"You don’t believe in me. Well, that’s sure to change," says the voice. The voice is light and bubbly and Harry catches a hint of mischief. 

"Wha-what are you talking about? I don’t understand." Harry stammers, looking around the room frantically. 

The voice laughs before saying,”Oh, I know you don’t understand. That’s part of the fun.” 

Harry feels a breeze ruffling his hair. He feels a tug by his ear. Harry looks over at his shoulder and sees a blonde girl in a green dress. That girl is the size of a thumb. That girl is also sitting in Harry’s shoulder. That girl also has wings.

 _Wings_ , Harry thinks. Wings? How can that be?

"Isn’t that enough proof for you? Your mum wasn’t lying. With all the stories she tells you about me. All those stories are real. She actually had a play date with me one time. I offered her to come to Neverland but she wanted to grow up, but hey, her loss right?" 

"Hey! Don’t talk about my mum like that!" Harry angrily whispers. 

"Don’t worry. I don’t give people who’ve grown up a second thought. People that don’t want to grow up and want to stay young forever? Now those are people worth thinking about!” 

"That’s very offensive." Harry mutters.

He feels a poke on his cheek and sees the girl, very red in the face.

"Tinker Bell, don’t get so angry. He doesn’t know, yet." 

"Wait, if she’s Tinker Bell, does that make you…….." Harry stares out the window. "Peter Pan?"

"You’re slow for someone your age. I like that. And yes, I am Peter Pan. If you’re looking for me, you’re looking the wrong way." 

Harry quickly turns around to look behind him and sees a pair of smiling gray eyes. 

"Gah!" Harry falls off his bed and Peter Pan laughs. 

"You’re too funny!" Peter Pan says with a roar of laughter, hand over stomach.

Harry observes him from the floor. Peter has soft brown hair that is flat atop his head. He wears green tights and a green shirt. He has a pair of brown shoes made of leather. He has sun kissed skin. Around his waist is a rope with a small sack tied to it. 

"What’s in the sack?" Harry asks, trying not to give in on the whole Peter-Pan-is-real-and-in-my-room fiasco. Peter Pan isn’t real. This is just a dream. Wake up Harry, he tells himself. Maybe if he pinched himself hard enough, he’d wake up. He closes his eyes and squeezes his arm. He opens his eyes and sees the flying boy still above him. 

”’What’s in the sack?’ Let me tell you, it is something of high quality, my friend.” He swoops down from the ceiling and leans close to Harry’s face. Peter squints as if questioning

Harry’s motives to ask. “Do you want to know what’s in the bag, Harry?” 

Harry’s curiosity got the better of him. “Yes”, he said. 

"Well if I show you, will you finally believe I’m Peter Pan? I can see in your eyes that no use of flying around will convince you." Peter looks down at the floor, smiling to no one in particular. 

It’s a sad sort of smile. A smile that doesn’t want to be pitied, but couldn’t be helped.   
Harry puts his hand on Peter’s shoulder out of sympathy. He looks at Peter and sees all the things his mother has described him as. Fun. Playful. A kid. But he looks closer and sees a person that just wants to have a good time. A person that just wants to play. Harry decides to put his seriousness and maturity aside for the sake of this boy.

"I believe in you. I believe in the amazing and absolutely wonderful Peter Pan. You are real." Harry says, looking deep into Peter’s gray eyes. "Peter Pan is real." Harry says mostly to himself.

Peter slowly looks up, a smile breaking out in his face. The look in his eyes thrills and frightens Harry at the same time, feelings Harry doesn’t recognize at first. Feelings Harry is excited to feel.

"I’m glad you finally believe in me."

Before Harry knew it, Peter has taken his sack off the rope and quickly puts whatever in the sack onto his hand. Harry tries to observe what’s in his palm but Peter jerks his curled palm out of Harry’s reach.

"Hey! I want to see! You said you’d show me!" Harry pouts.

Peter chuckles. “Come close than.” Harry leans in. “Ready?” Harry nods. Peter opens his palm and blows. Harry coughs. 

"What did you-oh my goodness!" Harry is floating. No, flying. He realized that Peter has just blown pixie dust off his palm and now Harry can fly.

"Isn’t this fun? Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it." Peter says. "C’mon. I want to show you something." 

Harry follows Peter out the window and Tinker Bell is now a happy camper. Harry is actually glad that he believed in Peter Pan now. If he didn’t, he was afraid Tinker Bell might’ve chopped off his ear or something much more drastic.

Harry clumsily spreads his arms and legs , copying Peter. The two boys fly side by side. Peter looks over to Harry and Harry looks over to Peter, and they share a smile. Harry feels a tug at his stomach. Peter’s smile was genuine, instead of his usual devilish one. Harry thinks the genuine smile matches his eyes. All soft and warm and welcoming and just plain happy. 

Harry loves it. He loves flying over London, with the cool air wrapping around Harry’s skin like a blanket. Most of all, he loves flying with Peter by his side. 

"Follow me." Peter takes a sharp turn to the right and Harry follows suit. 

Harry looks down and laughs in delight. The city lights are really beautiful from above. They blink on and off and shine so bright. Harry looks back to Peter and thinks that there may be something more beautiful than the city lights. Someone much more beautiful than the city lights under him.

Peter takes a left and Harry can see the Big Ben. “Race you to the Big Ben?” Peter asks. 

"Ummm…..I’m not sure if I can-"

"Well that’s what practice is for." And Peter zooms straight to the clock without a warning.

"Hey! That’s not fair!" Harry yells after him. He can’t help smiling though. Peter sure knows how to keep a boy on his toes. 

Harry tries to fly as fast as he can to the clock but he doesn’t gain as much as 3 centimeters after the immortal boy. Harry lands on the rim of the clock and he gives Peter a dorky smile. Harry is suddenly self-conscious,patting his messy bed hair. Harry tries to drop the smile but he can’t. The smile is plastered since he got out of his room. It’s practically impossible to get it off. 

"Looks like I won." Peter says with a devious smile. Harry is starting to become fond of that smile. Of all his little sly and cute and devilish and warming smiles. He’s becoming fond of all of it. 

"Not quite." Harry says,surprised he’s a little out of breath. "I’m pretty sure you cheated."

"No, I’m pretty sure I got a head start." Peter says, his smile widening. Harry feels as if his heart is smiling too. 

"No, I’m pretty sure you didn’t." Peter and Harry laugh. Peter laughs a few seconds longer but eventually all becomes quiet. 

Even though Tinker Bell is flying around Peter’s head, trying to get his attention, he doesn’t drop his gaze. Harry stares at him, wondering what he’s thinking. Suddenly, Peter takes a seat, his legs crossed, and stares across the city. 

"Come sit." Peter pats the seat next to him and Harry does as he’s told.

Harry sneaks a glance at Peter and finds it crazy how this boy has lived for more than a thousand years.

"You know, you look pretty good for a person that’s immortal." Harry says, breaking the ice.

Peter gives Harry a smile worth dying for. “Ah well, I got this moisturizer I put on everyday. It works really well as you can see from the results.” 

Harry laughs but he sees a tiny glint if seriousness in Peter’s eyes. “But seriously, I prefer not to think about my age. I look at myself and say,’you’re not a thousand. You will not grow older. You will stay young forever.’” 

They let the words hang in the air for a while and let it sink. Harry frowns and Peter notices. “Oh don’t make that face. Don’t make that face. Hey, hey look.” Harry turns over and sees Peter with his fingers at the edges of his lips. “Turn that frown upside down.” Peter moves his fingers up as well as the corners of his lips, from a sad face to a smiley one. He crosses his eyes for good measure. Harry laughs.

"You always know how to make me smile." Harry says, shaking his head slightly, not truly believing the beautiful boy in front of him is real.

Peter looks at Harry for a bit than he turns his head. 

"What?" Harry asks.

Peter turns back to face harry. “It’s almost time.” 

"Time for what?" 

Peter gives Harry his famous sinister smile and flies away. 

"Wha-wait!" Harry yells, fumbling to get off his arse. He turns around in time to see the clock about to strike 12. The clock gongs and the sound reverberates in his ear. He becomes dizzy and falls off the edge of Big Ben. 

Harry can’t see what’s happening. He can only feel it. And he’s pretty sure most of the pixie dust has worn off by now. Harry thinks if this is what it’s like to die, the cold and dark wrapping around him, he wouldn’t know what to do but stay paralyzed in fear.

"Harry! Hold up!" A voice yells above.

 _Don’t you think I would if I could_ , Harry thinks, clenching his jaw.

Harry turns to face the floor beneath him, his hair flapping wildly out of his face. He spreads his legs and arms, this time, falling instead of flying. Harry braces himself as he sees the ground, but a different force hits him. The air is breathable again and he can think. He looks up to see Peter’s arms holding his body. Peter flies back up to Big Ben. 

Peter gives Harry an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I know my games can get out of hand but never this bad.” 

Harry can’t deny that the little pout forming on Peter’s face is adorable, nor can he deny the gray storm forming in Peter’s eyes. And the vulnerability peeping out of Peter, well, Harry can’t help but become more fond of him. Harry leans in and kisses Peter on the cheek. 

"Ew! What was that for?" Peter asks, wiping off the saliva from his cheeks. "You know kisses have cooties in them?! It’s disgusting!" 

Harry blushes furiously. “I guess that was just my way of saying thank you.” 

Peter sighs, but smiles anyways. He pats Harry’s mop of curls. “Well than, that’s my way of saying ‘you’re welcome’.”

Harry frowns. “Awwwwwww how about a kiss? I mean it’s only fair that you give me cooties since I gave you mine.” Harry says, half-joking and half-serious. Harry wouldn’t mind getting a few cooties from Peter. 

"Maybe. Sometime soon." Peter takes out his sack and puts a few sprinkles of pixie dust on his hands and sprinkles it over Harry’s head. Harry starts to feel his feet lift off the ground. "Let’s go to Tower Bridge." Peter smiles and takes off.

Harry bends his knees and lifts off. He loves feeling so light and he’s pretty sure it’s not the pixie dust this time. He loves the air seeping between his fingers. He loves the feeling of being spontaneous and crazy and young. He loves being with Peter Pan, and being with Peter Pan is a much better feeling than flying can ever bring.

Harry notices a shiny glint at the comer of his left eye and notices Tinker Bell. She sees Harry staring at Peter and she sticks out her tongue. She makes a kissy face and than a quick barf face after. Harry blushes. Peter comes by Harry’s right and their fingers linger towards each other. Harry’s heart leaps for the billionth time that night. 

"May I?" Harry asks, already starting to lace his hand through Peter’s.

"Yes, of course." Peter curls his fingers and clasps Harry’s hand, causing Harry to smile wider. He can feel Tinker Bell fuming but he can’t bring himself to care. 

Harry looks down and gasps. For some reason, he finds flying over water more frightening than flying over buildings. He feels the panic rising from his chest to his neck and coming out of his head.

"What’s wrong?" Peter asks. 

"I’m just- the water- it’s frightening-" Harry chokes out.

Peter squeezes Harry’s hand and Harry’s heart takes on a dull thump. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.” 

Harry nods, trusting his words. 

"Just close your eyes and I’ll lead you there." Peter says in a a tone as warm as the sun.

Harry nods again. The only thing he focuses on is the warm clasp of Peter’s hand and the silky voice that belongs to him. 

"We’re almost there. You can do this, Curly. We can make it." Peter encourages Harry and Harry weakly smiles at the nickname. Harry feels as if he’s drowning in happiness as well as his fear.

"Okay time to open your eyes." Harry opens his eyes and sees Peter slowing down and landing on top of the bridge. Harry does the same.

"You know there are stairs right?" Harry says, pointing to the spiral of stairs peeking out on his left.

"Stairs are for people that can’t fly." Peter says with a smug smile.

"I couldn’t fly. Well, before I met you." Harry says carefully.

"Yes, and you can keep flying." 

"Excuse me?" 

Harry and Peter stare at each other for a second. Harry suddenly imagines himself and Peter all grown up, happy and in love. They would have kids with each other and raise that kid. Harry imagines growing old with Peter, gaining the most amazing and wonderful memories with Peter. And most of all, Harry imagines the love he will never lose because being with Peter is just like bathing in love and light. 

"Would you like to go to Neverland with me? You seem like a boy worthy of coming with me. You can become one of my Lost Boys." Peter suddenly says.

"Neverland?" 

"Yes, Neverland. You must know that I can’t stay here forever." 

Harry feels as if a rock is lodged in his throat.

Yes, Harry knows that Peter can’t stay here forever, but he sure made it feel like forever. He sure made it feel as if this night was forever.

"I know that." Harry says, trying to swallow the rock in his throat.

"Harry, you can stay young forever. I mean, who wants to get older and get a job and be miserable every single day because of all the taxes or because of all the wrinkles forming on your forehead." Peter says, snappy and sharp. "Harry, you can stay young forever. Forever. Besides, you can stay young forever with me.” He says in a softer tone. 

And now Harry feels stupid. Of course he can’t grow older with Peter. The boy is basically the God of Immortal Youth. He can’t become older, not ever. But Harry can stay young, and all Harry wants to do is spend the rest of his life with Peter, even if it means staying 12. Even if it means becoming an immortal. But he has Gemma and his mom and his friends to consider, too. 

Harry bites his bottom lip nervously. “Let me think about it.” Harry says, trying not to offend Peter in any way.

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Peter says in a calm voice, but Harry can tell by the way Peter’s fingers are twitching he isn’t calm. Not at all.

"I’m sorry. I just need some time to think." Harry says. He starts to play with his hair.

"I understand." Peter says, slightly frowning.

Harry observes Peter in the dim light. Yes, he is forever young. You can see all his youth when he’s smiling or laughing or when he’s flying. You can see he’s just a kid when he plays tricks and jokes around. But as Harry thinks, he realizes that it’s only on the outside. The youth is only on the outside. Every once in a while, like now for instance, Harry can see that Peter is older and wiser than he lets on. Peter holds in many frustrations and anger and guilt, yet he only shows his happiness. Peter would still look young on the outside, but he would still grow older and older inside his soul, until it finally crumbles to dust.

Tinker Bell flies around Harry’s head, smiling. She’s probably happy that Harry blew his chance of impressing the gray-eyed-immortal. 

"May I ask you a question?" Harry asks.

Peter looks up, his eyes a dangerous shade, almost black in the dim lighting. “You may.”

Suddenly nervous, Harry plays with his sleeves. “It’s just……why do you find growing up so bad? You always seem to look down on growing up and…..” Harry doesn’t continue.

Seeing the look on Peter’s face is enough to make him shut up.

"I don’t find it bad. Okay, yeah I do." Peter says after frowning a little deeper. "I sometimes visit people that I knew as a kid but decided to grow up." Peter looks at his hands and Harry takes it in his. Harry gives Peter a reassuring squeeze, encouragement to go on, and Peter gives him a grateful smile. "I see them so miserable and sad and tired. I don’t want to be like that. I don’t want anyone to be like that.”

"But you say that you don’t give those people a second thought. If you don’t even think about them, why visit?" Harry asks.

Peter shrugs. “Who knows? I mean, I do many stupid things for no reason and this is just one of them.”

Harry lingers over the information a bit longer than he intended to. He feels the sadness coming in waves. He realizes it’s coming off of Peter. 

"C’mon. Lets fly." Harry says. 

"To where? I’ve only been here for two nights and I haven’t explored that well." Peter says, the spark of adventure returning in his eyes.

"I’ll show you my favorite place. Although, I don’t know how to navigate from the sky so I might get us lost." Harry says sheepishly.

Peter wave his hand in the air, as if swatting a fly. Although, it could be Tinker Bell he was swatting at. She never leaves Peter’s side. “No matter. If we get lost, it would be a more of an adventure than it already is.” Peter smiles at Harry in the way that causes Harry to feel as if he’s flying, a if he’s walking on air, without the help of pixie dust. 

"Let me show you the London Eye." Harry lifts off and so does Peter, never letting each others hand, even as they fly, even as they try to race, even as they finally land. Not once did they let go. 

"Why is this your favorite place?" Peter asks, suddenly closing in on Harry. They wrap their arms around each other. Harry didn’t notice how tiny Peter really was until this very moment. "It’s cold," Peter murmurs into Harry’s chest.

Harry flushes. Peter is so much more wonderful this close. Harry wraps his arms around Peter’s waist without question, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Trying to calm his racing heart, he says,”I just find it so beautiful. I like being in the London Eye. I mean, even the name is magnificent.” 

Peter nods, urging Harry to go on but Harry doesn’t have much of an explanation. 

"And you think it’s cold? You should’ve thought of that before going to London at night. Especially in tights." Harry quickly adds. Peter pushes Harry in a playful way. Harry notices Peter trying to smudge the growing smile at the corners of his lips.

"First of all, tights are comfortable. And second, I am not a weatherman. And third." Peter slides his arms around Harry once again. "I prefer body heat." Harry flushes into a deeper red. Harry can see the steam coming out if Tinker Bell’s ears. 

"Well….ummm just you know…..if you’re cold or anything you can call me whenever……." Harry says, struggling to get the words out of his throat. 

They stay in that position for a while. Peter’s head on Harry’s chest while Harry’s head lays on top of Peter’s shoulders, arms wrapped around one another. 

"So what’s your answer?" Peter asks. "Would you like to become one of my Lost Boys?"  
Harry wants to say yes. So badly. He loves the feeling he gets around Peter. Harry loves how Peter makes him feel spontaneous and young and crazy and alive. He loves how Peter can make everyone on the balls of their feet in less than three seconds. He just loves being around Peter. He loves Peter. But he can’t. He can’t stay young. He can’t sty young forever. Not for Peter,but for himself.

Harry firmly puts his hands on Peter’s shoulders and stares at him in the eyes. Harry hates to break the smile on his face. “It’s a no. I’m sorry. I would love stay with you. Forever. But I can’t.”

Peter grimaces. “Why? Because of your mummy and your sister?” The tone gives Harry the feeling something sharp hitting him in the chest.

"No. Not just them. I want to grow older. I want to experience the world without being limited because I’m still a kid. I want to experience all of the heartbreak and happiness and sadness and joy. I want to experience what life has to offer. So, no. I’m not denying your offer because of my family. I’m denying your offer because of me."  
Harry bites his lip. He thinks that Peter would hate him for it. Harry thinks that Peter would just fly off into the moonlight. Harry thinks that Peter wouldn’t give him a second thought, like all the others that wanted to grow up. But all Peter does is give him a half-smile. The smile that’s half empty, but all broken.

"I knew you’d say that." Peter lets go of Harry’s hand and lifts off. "It’s late. I’ll bring you home."

***

Peter tucks Harry in before he left. 

"Wait." Harry says, holding onto Peter’s wrist. "How about that kiss?" 

"Patience, grasshopper. I said soon." Peter lightly brushes his thumb over Harry’s dimple. He slowly flies out. Before leaving he says,"Goodnight, Harry. I hope you’ll be happy." 

Harry nods, his voice stuck by the tears trying to come out. “I’ll miss you.” He says, voice wavering and tears threatening to break out. 

"I’ll miss you too." 

Harry watches as Peter flies out. Peter turns around one more time and gives Harry a slight wave. Harry waves back, not sure if he actually sees tears on Peter’s cheeks. 

 _Please don’t forget me_ ,Harry thinks as he smiles through the tears, _‘cause I don’t think I’m able to forget you._

xxx

"Wow." Sabrina says, wide eyed. "That’s amazing." 

"I know." Harry says, smiling. 

"What did Aunty Gemma say about it? Does Grammy Anne know? What happened after?" Sabrina asks.

Harry laughs. “Well, Gemma was questioning why I woke up crying my eyeballs out. And Anne, well, I think she just knew. And after, what can I say? I grew up.” 

"Daddy, I have another question for you." 

"And what’s that, pumpkin?" 

"Are you happy? Was Peter Pan right about growing up? Is it as bad as he said it is?" 

"No and yes. Growing up, all of us are tired and miserable and sad." Sabrina’s eyes droop with disappointment. "But there are always the good parts. Like the happiness and the excitement and every other wonderful things you won’t experience as a kid.The best part about growing up is not knowing what comes next." Harry explains. Sabrina’s spark lights up again.

"So being an adult isn’t bad?" Sabrina asks.

"No. Not all bad. But I also learned that it’s fine to just be a kid. I have my mature moments but I can’t go through life with just a frown and my head down. I actually have to live my life and to have fun with it, too." Harry says. Sabrina yawns. 

"That’s my favorite story you’ve ever told me." Sabrina says, her voice slowing due to lack of sleep.

"Now that you’ve heard the one story I kept close to my heart, it’s time for bed." Harry claps his hands together and Sabrina whines. Harry gives her a stern look and she sighs. 

"Fine. I’ll sleep." Sabrina says, already closing her eyes. 

"Thank you, love." And Harry kisses Sabrina’s forehead just as her first round of snores shows up.

***

Harry puts his glasses on the table and turns the light off. Bed time for me,bed time for me,he sings to himself. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep but his mind wanders back to the story of Peter Pan. 

He hasn’t thought about that in a while. It’s not as if Peter would visit Harry though. He has too many kids to turn immortal. Just as Harry feels the sleep creeping up into his mind, he feels something fluttering on the tip of his nose. He opens his eyes. Nothing. He looks around and notices something glittery and gold falling down. 

"What the-" Harry mumbles. He feels a woosh of the wind and a quick brush of something soft on his cheek. It’s like a feather. More like a kiss.

Harry looks out the window only to see a shadow.

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly dont think this is one of my best works but i hoped you guys enjoyed it anyways!! thank you for reading <33  
> ps: i have never been to London so sorry if i made mistakes whereas the directions of the Big Ben, the London Eye, etc.


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